


On A Friday in a Café

by isignedupforthis



Category: Lovely Little Losers
Genre: F/F, coffee shop AU, open mic night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4677077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isignedupforthis/pseuds/isignedupforthis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, Paige,” Chelsey leans in and reaches for her ponytail. Paige watches her twirl a piece of hair and work it through her fingers. “What’s your opinion on Marlowe?”<br/>“That’s not particularly small talk, is it?”<br/>“I’ve never really been a big fan of small talk! I like to hear people’s opinions on things, it feels like I’m actually getting to know them better that way.” She wiggles her eyebrows at Paige. Is she flirting right now? With Marlowe?</p><p>Paige & Chelsey meet at an open mic night they’re both performing at and it’s adorable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Friday in a Café

Paige could probably credit herself with making Open Mic Friday Nights at Boyet’s Coffee Hut as popular as they are. You know, since she’s the one who organized the first one for a St. Miranda’s LGBTQA  fundraiser a while back. And she’s usually the only one to perform. Which is literally the most annoying thing.

“I don’t get why nobody ever performs except for me.” She mutters under her breath. She’s leaning against the counter that her friend and Friendly Local Barista is serving people behind.

“Maybe it’s because they’re too busy enjoying my espressos,” Kel replies.

“You do make a good French roast.” Her phone vibrates in her pocket. A text notification is bright on her screen. She swipes and reads the conversation.

 **P (5:23 PM)** :  _R u willing 2 perform 4 a bunch of ppl who will b checking their phones 4 free???_

**C (5:25 PM):** _I need context, but I am fascinated. Also, I would be used to this sort of environment. In my recent one man production of “The Seeker”, I was received by–_

She swipes down further, past the paragraphs that remained of the message.

 **P (5:30 PM)** : _Is that a yes?_

 **C (5:31 PM)** :  _That is most definitely a yes._

 **P (5:31 PM)** :  _Boyet’s Coffee. 7 PM tonight. Open mic night. PLEASE bring friends._

 **C (5:32 PM):**   _Gotcha._

“Who are you texting? Your mistress?” Kel teases.

And haha. It’s so funny that Paige Moth, formally known as “The Gay As Hell Revolutionary Lesbian of St. Miranda’s Who Definitely Likes Girls,” has not dated anyone seriously yet in university. It’s not that she hasn’t wanted to– it’s just that, well, she’s been busy. Writing and recording an EP. Keeping up with coursework. Running for a board position for GSA. (Vice President, specifically. She’s not that ambitious.)

“Costa from school. He’s coming over with some friends. More people to perform, and more people to drink your coffee. You’re welcome.” Paige smirks as she hears Kelsi mumbling about Costa’s inability to cast properly or something, grabs her guitar, and heads for the front of the shop, cleared of its tables and chairs to make for a pseudo-stage of sorts.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to Boyet’s Coffee’s Open Mic Friday Nights. I’m Paige Moth, if you didn’t already know,”–Paige hears someone cheer– “And we’ll be having some locals come up and perform for you all: songs, poetry, comedy, general entertainment, really anything at all, for your pleasure tonight!”

She looks out into the tables. Costa isn’t here. She texted him an hour and a half ago. He should be here. What the hell. “There’s not really a specific order or schedule for this. So…feel free to come up and show your stuff! Your talent, I mean,” adding under her breath “This is a PG-rated evening, Mab.”

“Oh my god, that was one time!” She hears another call from the back.

“I’ll be starting up the evening unless we have any volunteers?” Paige questions. Silence follows. As it usually does. She sighs. “Alright then. Here’s some stuff I’ve been working on” She sits on the stool, pulls her guitar close to her chest, and starts to strum the intro to “Tough Senior.”

And it goes well. The crowd nods along, drinks their coffee, like they always do. Costa and his group still has yet to show up. She finishes with a cover of Black Kids’ “I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You.” They’re still not here. She’s on the final verse. Please, Costa. PLEASE.

“ _You are the girl that I’ve been dreaming of_ ,” She sings. “ _Ever since I was a little girl_.”

And it’s like the gods on looking after her, because once Paige finishes the last strum she hears the coffee shop door open and Costa is there, finally, in his red sweater and a curious look on his face.

The girl he’s with, she doesn’t know.

She’s got this long, wavy hair, pulled back in a ponytail and these wide eyes, the kind you can look at for a second and write dozens of songs about. Her lips are red and frame a wide, slightly nervous grin. Paige realizes that wow, okay, Mystery Girl is really cute. Wow. Like. Really, really cute. Wow. Okay.

Paige realizes that the crowd has stopped clapping, and she’s staring at the group that has just walked in. She feels them all watching her, waiting for her to do something. She turns to the customers and speaks into the microphone.

“Is there anyone who would like to come up here next?” She nods towards Costa, hoping that he understands that that’s his cue to volunteer to go next.

“I’d like to.” And it’s not Costa’s voice that Paige registers. Mystery Girl approaches the stage, pulling out a neatly folded up paper from her pocket. Paige watches her walk to the microphone, with long strides that somehow still look sophisticated. She then realizes that she should probably get off the stage-area and let Mystery Girl have her space to do…whatever she thinks she’s doing.

Paige sits down with Costa to watch.

Mystery Girl stares directly into the crowd. “My name is Chelsey Long, and I’ll be performing some poetry I wrote.” She closes her eyes, inhales (dramatically, as Paige notes) and begins.

Paige isn’t quite sure if the performance is the most terrifying or the most incredible thing that she’s ever seen. There’s lots and lots of arm flailing that ensues, Chelsey’s voice raising and lowering at every possible turn, as she reads. The poem itself is shit. Some Marlovian, pretentious, bullshit. But the passion that Chelsey puts in the words with her body and voice alone….well, it’s art.

And the rest of the coffee shop seems to agree with her. Chelsey curtsies–seriously, this girl is  _cute and talented and adorable_ – and walks towards their table. Oh no. Paige is going to have to talk to this incredibly _cute and talented and adorable_ girl.

Luckily, Paige doesn’t have to break the ice, because Costa is the first to speak. “You were absolutely incredible, Chelsey! What remarkable presence you had, and your delivery was truly genius.” He rose from his place at the table and walked toward the stage. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an audience to entertain.”

Now was the time to work the classic Moth charm.  

“That was a really great performance.”

Good. Compliment her. You’re doing great, Paige.

“Your name’s Chelsey, right?”

She literally announced her name to the entire shop five minutes ago.

“I’m Paige, by the way. In case you didn’t hear me earlier. I was the one that was onstage when you guys came in.”

Stop talking about yourself!!!

“How do you know Costa?”

Nice. Way to flirt with a girl. By talking about the dude she came to the coffeehouse with. A+ work.

Once Chelsey starts to speak, Paige realizes that her passion while reading on stage wasn’t just for the sake of art. That was just Chelsey being Chelsey.

“Oh, well, we just met earlier today, actually! I auditioned for his production of The Massacre at Paris this morning. It’s one of my favorites by Marlowe! He’s my favorite writer. I just love everything he’s done! His work is to die for. Well, not actually. I doubt that Costa can tell you  how I did, but I’d like to say that I did the play justice.”

“So, Paige,” Chelsey leans in and reaches for her ponytail. Paige watches her twirl a piece of hair and work it through her fingers. “What’s your opinion on Marlowe?”

“That’s not particularly small talk, is it?”

“I’ve never really been a big fan of small talk! I like to hear people’s opinions on things, it feels like I’m actually getting to know them better that way.” She wiggles her eyebrows at Paige. Is she flirting right now? With  _Marlowe_?

Paige makes eye contact with Chelsey. She really is…something. What that something is, Paige is curious to find out. “Um, well, I’m not really a big drama person. Like, I’ve been in a few plays, but I’m not an actor by trade. Music’s my real passion.”

“Ooh, what type of music?”

“I dabble in all kinds. Mostly more indie, alternative stuff. I’ve got a pretty eclectic style. What type d’you like?”

“Well, I’m a theatre girl, so showtunes. But also rock! And dance music! I love dance music. It’s hard to find dance music that is actually good though.”

“Dance music is hard to write,” Paige admits. “You really have to get a good groove going.”

“They play some really great stuff at Boogie on Courtenay Place,” Chelsey looks down, bites her lip. Oh wait, is she actually going to… She levels her eyes with Paige again. Oh my god. She totally is. “I was thinking about going over there after Costa performs. Would you…want to come with me?”

Say yes, Moth. SAY YES, DAMN IT!

“I can’t,” Paige confesses. And Chelsey’s face falls. WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MOTH. “I have to stay here and help clean everything up after the last performer, and I don’t know when that’ll be.” Make a recovery, Moth! Make a recovery! This girl is too cute to reject like this! “But if you wanted to, you could come over to my flat and I could play some stuff for you. You know, if you’d be willing to wait.”

“We could just go to Boogie after you’re done cleaning up.”

“Yeah, but that’s not my kind of first date.” Wait. Paige did not just say that.

Chelsey’s blushing. The good kind or the bad kind? “Um, well, okay!”  She beams at her, and Paige can feel her heart swell. “But I swear, one day we’re going to Boogie.  _And you’re going to like it._ ”


End file.
